All I wanna do
by Wolfs
Summary: One-shot songfic based on the song "All I wanna do" by Ann Wilson. Lauren finds Bo on the side of the road one night and sparks fly. Perhaps a bit dramatic, but rather sexy. Enjoy!


_It was a rainy night when she came into sight,_

 _Standing by the road – no umbrella, no coat._

 _So I pulled up alongside and I offered her a ride._

 _She accepted with a smile, so we drove for a while._

 _I didn't ask her her name – this lonely girl in the rain._

 _Fate, tell me it's right. Is this love at first sight?_

I want to run away.

How long can any one person be expected to love something that is technically no longer there? How long can any one person be expected to hope beyond hope for a day when things will magically change? How long can any one person be expected to feel guilty over…

How long must I pay for this mistake?

My frustration boils angrily in my stomach and pushing my foot down on the gas pedal is all I can do to stop the bile from climbing up my throat. I'm speeding dangerously now down a dark road that seems to lead nowhere and for just a second I wish that an unexpected object in my way would end my misery. Soon I realise, however, that my immature desires are beyond ridiculous and that grown women don't simply run away from their problems.

I reluctantly slow down to the speed limit once more and sigh deeply as the first drops of rain hit my windscreen. The weather tonight is as dreary and as lonely as I am feeling. Four years I have spent working day and night searching for a cure for her, while my own heart grew sicklier by the day. Four years I have spent in servitude with my pride and dignity pushed to the limits. Four years I have spent losing the very essence of myself, watching it slip through my fingers, grain by grain.

And tonight I am tired. Tonight I just cannot take any more aching and longing. The worst part is, though, that the aching and longing is no longer for her. It is for meaning, passion, desire, freedom – anything that feels real. The way that I have simply become comfortably numb is terrifying me and I need to escape… in whichever way possible.

When I refocus my blurry vision on the misty road that is visible in my headlights, I realise that I have slowed down to a near crawl. Luckily the road between the compound and the city was often deathly quiet and devoid of traffic control or I might have been pulled over by now. I squint at the next signboard as if I'm actually interested in reading it, but my eyes drift just slightly and I catch sight of a figure emerging from the darkness a few yards further down. I never pick up hitchhikers as my logical brain always deems such situations too dangerous.

The adrenaline is delicious. It is exactly what I crave. Tonight it is exactly the drug that I need.

I feel my heart pounding dangerously as I slowly pull over, coming to a halt next to the figure and roll down the passenger side window. "Get in." I bark in a low voice without even bothering to look at the person who was by now yanking open the door, eager to escape the rain that is now pouring down in generous volumes. I take a deep breath as I close my eyes for a few seconds, readying myself for the knife, the gun, the chloroform. For a moment I find peace in my willingness to surrender to my fate. I guess my perceived maturity was but a mere illusion, easily falling prey to my utter desperation.

"Do you have a death wish?" I hear the incredulous tone of my newest travel companion and my eyes finally shoot open. Sitting there drenched in the passenger seat of my car, soaking the upholstery, is a young woman with dark hair that clings to her wet skin, obscuring half of her face. But I don't need to see all of her face to realise how unbelievably beautiful she is. There is something about her that nearly screams "wild and untameable"; her eyes as dark as a riled animal's; her smirk predatory. She leans forward in the seat and shakes her sodden button-up shirt from her shoulders, removing it only to reveal a black vest that hugs her luscious curves so tightly that it is downright sinful.

When she glances back at me after tossing her belongings carelessly onto the backseat, she inevitably catches me leering at her and an immediate blush burns over my cheeks and up to my ears. Her lips curl into a barely noticeable knowing smile – but I notice it. She's used to this kind of reaction.

"Don't worry. I don't bite." She reassures me before I could even answer her question, and yet the way she gently sucks the corner of her bottom lip into her mouth and catches it between her teeth alerts me to the possibility that that statement might not be entirely true. When she eventually turns her intent gaze away from me in order to buckle her seatbelt I finally let out the breath I only now realise I had been holding. Quickly looking back at the road I shift the car back into gear and pull away slowly as I try to dislodge the fog that had settled into my mind the moment I laid eyes upon this… _creature_.

And then I snort, unwittingly; amused. From the corner of my eye I can see her looking at me and I know that she's confused. "It's just… you seemed to have read my mind." I admit after a few seconds.

"Then why did you pull over?"

I simply shrug and she seems to understand.

We fall into silence and it's not uncomfortable. I had given up on the radio about ten miles back. The only thing audible is the patter of the rain on the roof of my car and I suddenly realise what a beautiful rhythm it is, playing percussion while the low hum of the engine forms the steady baseline. And when she finally speaks again, the melody is in her voice.

"I have that feeling every time I get into a stranger's car. It's weird how the rush is always worth whatever the outcome may be. I was once offered a lift by this pervy guy with some questionable shoe fetish. He spent more time trying to cop a feel of these babies than actually driving." She motions to the boots she is wearing and for a second I couldn't blame the guy. The black leather is laced all the way up to her thighs and the six inch heels look like they were made for skewering hearts. Inadvertently my gaze travels the rest of the way up her thighs in order to sate my curiosity regarding the rest of her outfit. I swallow inadvertently at the barely-there black denim shorts and wonder if she is possibly one of _those_ girls.

"I'm not." She raises one eyebrow and I can't help but laugh. She did it again.

"I wasn't…" I start, but she quickly interjects with an amused chuckle.

"No you were. It's okay, I have no excuse for dressing this way, other than maybe it makes life a little more hospitable." She shrugs and rubs her hands over her exposed thighs in an oddly self-conscious gesture, then stops and gives an irresistibly sly smirk. "And maybe I kinda like it…"

I like it too. I shake my head at the thought and realise that I might be in trouble, even if it isn't of the perilous variety anymore.

Silence fills the car again and I can feel my breathing growing shallow, as if there is an inexplicable tension permeating the air. Perhaps it isn't all that inexplicable as I had to admit that I feel drawn to this woman. She exudes a magnetic aura that I can feel tugging at my very soul, and the fact that I presume I am alone in this feeling is only more troublesome.

 _All I wanna do is make love to you._

 _Say you will, you want me to._

 _All I wanna do is make love to you._

 _I've got lovin' arms to hold onto._

And then a sliver of apprehensive hope fills me as I casually watch her from the corner of my eye. She's struggling to sit still in her seat, as if that same tension I am feeling is crawling underneath her skin. Her hand runs through her wet hair and she takes the opportunity to glance my way; the subtle way the corner of her lips curl hinting at her interest in me. A few minutes later she sighs just slightly in my direction, her eyes once again looking for any sign of having grabbed my attention, but I remain stoic. Another couple of minutes pass before I observe her playing with the frayed edges of her shorts while absentmindedly nibbling on her lower lip. Her eyes suddenly shift and she catches me staring, a cheeky grin capturing her lips.

I falter, feeling clumsy as I try to grasp for something to say.

"So, where am I taking you?" I opt for the casual small talk.

"Wherever you want…" I think she's flirting. No, scratch that – she is definitely flirting, especially judging by the way her head tilts just ever so slightly as she watches me intently. I feel like she's placing me on the spot, and said spot is rather hot.

"And here I thought I was just helping out a stranger. I wasn't exactly planning on picking up any strays." I wince at my own words as they inadvertently bring the image to mind of this woman in a leather collar, begging for a scratch, which makes me develop my own itch. I think she has the same thought as her features turn playful and she dips her head low to watch me from beneath those dark brows, her eyes smouldering, her body completely facing me now.

"Are you sure?" Her words come out slowly in a silky smooth tone that makes me shiver. "Because you seem a little… desperate for company." And by 'company' I know exactly what she's referring to.

I laugh, not sure if it's from embarrassment or indignation. "Are you sure you're not…"

"I can, if that's what you want." She cuts me off quickly, but her demeanour remains playful and flirtatious. "Free of charge. One night only." Her right brow wags at me and it gives me butterflies.

"I'm pretty sure that's illegal." I try to diffuse the situation slightly, even though I'm not convinced that I entirely want to.

"Oh, so you don't have a thing for _bad_ girls? Let me just inform you that you've already broken the law by picking up a hitchhiker." There is no way that she's going to allow me to diffuse the situation.

"So you're of the opinion that I should just continue this little crime spree then?" I arch one brow and try my best to seem unconvinced, but she was not to be fooled.

"You look like you could do with living a little." Even though she keeps her tone light, there is a certain sincerity woven into those words and I get the feeling that this woman can see right through me. I am bearing my soul without my consent, and yet it feels so good. It feels incredible to be seen – really seen – and not just merely noticed. "No one needs to know…" she continues, almost whispering, and her hand reaches out to me. I brace myself for the touch I'm longing for, some sort of physical affirmation of this near ethereal connection I'm feeling, but she stops herself and I have to grip the steering wheel tighter to prevent my hand from shooting out to her instead. "It could be our dirty little secret…" Her hand slowly lowers to the edge of my seat, her nails digging into the material from what I can only assume to be a sense of frustrating self-control.

"I'm not one for keeping dirty little secrets…" I breathe out audibly. It's a lie.

"I think you are…" BOOM, there it is… I inhale sharply and shake my head more in disbelief than in an effort to contradict her. I realise that I'm completely naked before her.

"Where am I taking you…?" I whimper with burning cheeks. She knows she's got me cornered.

"Wherever you want…" Her voice is husky as she finally, but slowly, places her hand on the exposed part of my arm and it's as if an entire ocean is rushing through my veins, accumulating in my lower abdomen only to crash violently down between my thighs. Adrenaline is pulsing through every fibre of my being and the sudden hyper-arousal is confusing, but utterly enchanting.

No, it can't be. I haven't encountered one in years…

As I struggle to get my breathing under control I glance at her features and they are incomprehensibly sultry. She curves her lips in a completely disarmingly sexy smile and makes no attempt to break her contact with my skin. I realise she must be hungry and I want nothing more than to offer myself up to her on a silver platter; allow her to devour me in every way possible. I could have crashed tonight and died. I could have picked up a psychopath and died by his knife or his gun. I had made peace with these possibilities at the start of my drive tonight and they even offered a welcoming sense of escape. If I was truly meant to die tonight, however - what better way than in the arms of a succubus?

She trails her fingers down my arm to my hand and then slowly back up while leaning close enough for me to catch her scent. It is a mix of wet soil and fresh musk and it is undeniably intoxicating, and though I have already made up my mind about what would be happening tonight, I suddenly fear that if her enthrallment wears off just enough that my sometimes annoyingly responsible nature will kick in and make me back out. I can't let that happen. I don't want that to happen. I am a sudden junkie on a high and clinging desperately to my poison.

"Don't stop." I whisper, barely audibly, as a shiver runs down my spine and sends goose bumps popping up all over my body.

"Oh, eager are we?" She chuckles lightly, her voice chiming carelessly, and gently fiddles with some stray strands of hair that have fallen into my face.

"No. I mean… yes. But I mean…" My voice trails off as I can't quite bring myself to say the words out loud and express what I feel to be unneeded technicalities. I motion to my bare skin and she follows my eyes, her expression suddenly dark and hesitant. She pulls her hand back and stares at me in confusion.

"Do you…" She starts but I quickly silence her by reaching for her hand. It is silky against my palm and fingertips and I shudder at the thought of what her hands would feel like exploring the more aching expanses of my body. I gently move her hand into my neck and place her palm to my skin so that she is cupping my jaw and cheek.

"I do…" I breathe out in what must have seemed like a sort of eagerness, because she immediately responds with another pulse. It was almost enough to send me over the edge right then, something I think she sensed easily seeing as how her breath hitched very audibly.

I swear I can hear a low vibration being emitted from her chest akin to the beginnings of an animalistic growl. She's leaning into me even more closely now and while her left hand slips to the back of my neck so that her fingers tangle into my hair, her right hand comes to rest on the upper part of my arm closest to her. Another pulse runs rampant through my body and I am incapable of holding back the small whimper escaping the back of my throat, to which she responds with a raspy moan just short of my ear, but I could feel her warm breath on my skin none the less.

I shiver, forgetting that I am, in fact, operating a motor vehicle. Her hand on my arm runs along the length of it, her fingertips blazing trails of invisible fire along my skin, before resting her hand over mine that is clutching the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles have turned completely white. It's only then that I realise I had veered into the oncoming lane and am not far from hitting the shoulder of the road. She gently turns the wheel and steers us back to safety.

"You need to pull over…" The whisper comes as a hot and heavy gush to my sensitive ear, causing another shiver to rattle my body, only increasing in magnitude as it reaches my lower half.

"There's a hotel another mile down the road." I whisper quickly, not trusting the steadiness of my voice at the moment.

She gives me a wolfish grin and sends another pulse to wreak havoc throughout my body.

 _So we found this hotel; it was a place I knew well._

 _We made magic that night – oh, she did everything right._

I barely turn around from closing and locking the door to the rented room before I'm shoved up against it, the stranger that I had picked up from the side of the road pressing her cold but quickly heating body up against mine. I find my hands pinned to the cheap wood above my head and my eyes flutter open finally to observe her hungry gaze. Her eyes are now glowing in a bright, unholy blue that causes my heart to race and I realise that there's no turning back now.

She's in no mood to talk further and I find that even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to. I only have to stare at her quivering lips for about five short seconds before she gets the hint and crashes them into mine desperately. They are unimaginably soft and sweet to taste, conjuring my own mouth into action effortlessly. Our kissing is hot and heavy and full of reckless abandon and I realise that if it's any indication of what awaited me this night, that I might in fact not survive to see another sunrise.

Her tongue forces its way into my inviting mouth and elicits a muffled moan from within my throat. She enjoys the sound – I can tell by the way she shudders against me and increases the pressure that her weight is inflicting upon me as I remain pinned to the door. As soon as I feel my hands released they fly into her hair and tangle into the moist locks, tugging her face closer as I push my tongue against hers to duel it out for dominance. Dominance, however, is definitely her middle name, which I realise as soon as her hands grip the front of my blouse and yank hard, sending the buttons clattering all over the tiled floor of the room.

Her hands are everywhere at once.

Her skilled fingers waste no time in bypassing my bra to play with my breasts, splaying against the sensitive skin only to grip, squeeze, pinch each peak into attention, then repeating the whole action. Over. And. Over. All the while her mouth moves down my jaw and into my neck, kissing sloppily and insatiably as she tastes every inch of skin down to my collarbone. By now my back is arching away from the door to make sure I don't lose a second of contact with her body, though the back of my head hits the barrier with a loud thud as my eyes roll back into my head. I did not think such sensation was possible.

How many hands does she have?

I try to focus on the sequence of her actions but the haze in my head and the pleasure washing through my veins make it impossible. I realise that my belt is loose and that my jeans are undone and I wonder if it did that on its own accord, assisting my willingness to have her violate me. I say violate because this is undeniably carnal and not the kind of thing you do with your loving girlfriend within the safe confines of your bedroom. No, this was a 'fuck me until I forget to breathe' situation.

I find myself lifted off the ground and my legs wrap around her rolling hips instinctively, bucking wantonly as she repeatedly increases and lessens the pressure in turn. With her muscled lower half keeping me pressed against the door, her hands seize the opportunity to tug my shirt and bra from my torso, dropping the items carelessly to the floor, and without realising it my own hands are helping her out of her vest and bra as well. I don't think I have any control left of my own body.

Fuck, her hands…

Somehow the door against my back turns into a rug at the foot of the bed and I catch a hazy glimpse of my pants and underwear flying away. I don't even have time to think about feeling self-conscious before her hips are between my legs again… and she's naked. And she's moving; thrusting and grinding the top of her pubic bone into my sensitive flesh and I realise that I'm coating her skin with my arousal. With a hand planted on each side of my head, I can see the muscles knit through her powerful arms as she uses them as leverage for her current position, hovering above me. Her eyes are closed when I glance up at her gorgeous face, which is contorted in as much pleasure as mine, and when she slowly opens them halfway to look at me, they are even bluer than before.

Her lips part… she moans…

And then those luscious lips are meshing with mine again, teeth tugging at my bottom lip before her tongue soothes over it. I can feel something being tugged from within my chest, pulled through my veins and nerves and escaping with my breath as I exhale when she pulls away slightly. My foggy mind manages to realise that she's feeding on me. It feels divine. Every nerve ending in my body is on fire.

Her hands… god, her hands…

I feel strong fingers curl around my throat in a delectably sadistic manoeuvre as she holds my head in place, her feeding increasing. She also increases the already overbearing pleasure I'm feeling with her other hand, her fingers crawling down my body and wedging in between our heaving hips. I cry out sharply as they thrust into me and I clench around them, hard, which causes her to smirk devilishly. She pushes and buries her digits as deep as possible, then suddenly pulls them free and brings them up to her lips for a taste while eyeing me darkly.

"Delicious…" My heart leaps miles away as I watch her tongue swirl around those fingers in her mouth, and suddenly I wish I was in her mouth instead. Growing bold, I reach for her neck and pull myself up by it in order to kiss her, the taste of my own body lingering on her lips for me to share in. Without breaking the contact she shifts her legs and soon she is straddling my lap instead, a low moan echoing through her throat and into my mouth as she slowly rolls her hips against mine, causing new flames to ignite deep within my lower abdomen.

I fall back to the carpet and simply watch her – back arched and head tilted backwards, her dark mane cascading over her shoulders. She is breath-taking, and the sight of her riding me like a wild Amazon ignites a passion within my chest that I had never experienced before. If I die tonight I would have absolutely no regrets.

Her nails digging painfully into my shoulders bring me back to the reality of the present moment and I act without thinking. I feel an intense need to make her feel me, and so I do by gripping her hip tightly with one hand to steady her movements, the other hand forcing itself in between her thighs where she is marking my skin with warm moisture. She swallows my fingers easily and gives a tantalizing groan of pleasure as she starts grinding down on me now with more vigour.

A few seconds turn into long minutes that seem to last a lifetime as her body devours my fingers and releases them again repeatedly, and I can feel the tension build inside of her. She tugs me up towards her and kisses me roughly before she pulls on my life force again, as if taking a deep drag of a cigarette. Once her lungs are full her jaw grows slack and her eyes roll back, then the bloody lines being scored down my back by her nails alert me to the fact that she is busy coming.

I listen to her curse like a sailor at a god she doesn't believe in, and it is HOT. AS. FUCK.

Her lips are back on mine as she rides out the remainder of her orgasm and I can feel my heart racing at an unhealthy pace, but she's feeding her final fill and I am powerless to do anything about it. I don't want to do anything about it. This is what I wanted, what I needed. And while I'm still revelling in the feel of the muscular contractions around my fingers, my heart skips a beat and my world goes dark.

 _She brought the woman out of me, so many times, easily._

 _And in the morning when she woke, all I left her was a note._

I don't know how long I was out for, but I am awoken by a deep, burning sensation kindled between my thighs and shooting to the very tips of my extremities. I arch my back while my hands grip the soft sheets beneath me and let my legs fall open further. I can't help but moan loudly at each languid stroke of the desirable tongue that is lapping eagerly at me, and consider for a moment the possibility of having died and gone to heaven.

When she realises that I have finally regained consciousness, she stops licking me and trails soft kisses over my hip and up to my chest, where she first spends some time acquainting herself with the dark peaks she finds there. "I thought I lost you there for a second…" Her words are muttered against my skin as she travels further along her journey to my lips and I welcome her intense exploration of my mouth while my stomach twists into all sorts of knots. I think I _have_ died and gone to heaven.

"No…" I breathe as I pull back from the kiss and hold her face in my hands to observe her eyes that have regained their natural deep brown colour. "But I think you will if you continue to…"

She knows what I mean and shakes her head determinedly. "I won't… I'm sated…"

I grin in amusement and arch a brow. "Then what were you doing down there?"

She hesitates with her answer and I can see an emotion flicker over her features that I can't quite pinpoint. I frown at her sudden change in demeanour and then even more so as I watch a deep blush colour her cheeks. I can feel her heart pounding through her chest where it presses heavily against mine.

Wait a minute. Succubi don't have _romantic_ feelings, do they?

She looks so vulnerable as she grapples for an answer and it causes a tugging of a different kind within my chest. Her hair, now dry and tousled, frames her face perfectly and I can't help but reach out to trace the delicate lines of her cheek and jaw. Her soul-piercing stare finally dissipates as she turns her head to kiss my fingertips, then moves past the palm of my hand and over my arm to finally reach my lips once more. There's a certain affectionate sincerity entrenched within her kiss and it causes my breath to hitch. I am unsure of what exactly is happening, but it is enchanting.

"You're just… intoxicating. And I'm not ready for this to end just yet…" Her whispers are warm against my lips and I swallow her words to quench this metaphorical thirst I'm starting to develop for this woman. When she kisses me again it is wholly different – there's a serendipitous magnetism permeating the air between us and every swipe of our tongues together is like a breath of air while otherwise drowning. I can feel that she needs me as much as I need her, and the need this time is much more intense than mere physical desire.

We spend further hours exploring each other's bodies in more earnest ways, swimming through tangled sheets and breaching in each other's arms. She drinks me in repeatedly but never more drinks _of_ me; her kisses are deep and evocative, but never take life with them. When we finally feel our hearts turn as raw as our bodies, we curl up together and drift off into dreamless slumber. I never reach the brink of death as I thought I would, but as I lay in her tender grasp, I realise that it doesn't matter. It is amazing how one person can change your outlook forever.

 _I told her:_

 _I am the flower, you are the seed;_

 _We walked in the garden, we planted a tree._

 _Don't try to find me, please don't you dare._

 _Just live in my memory, you'll always be there._

At the first signs of dawn breaking I start to stir, craning my head to look over my shoulder at the beauty that has me wrapped up in her arms. It feels safe and warm and I feel like I could make my home here. But this was a dream and it had to remain ethereal and untainted as such.

I slowly untangle myself from her and roll out of bed, tip-toeing around the room as I gather my clothes and quickly slide the items on. Every time I cast a glance at the sleeping woman I have to pause and catch my breath, completely taken by her splendour in the gentle morning light. She has one arm stretched out above her head and is bearing a softly breathing chest to the cool air, while the sheet is draped lazily over one hip and manages to just cover the apex of her thighs. I have to look away to still the dull ache within my lower abdomen, as well as my chest.

I carefully rummage through a few drawers, searching for some paper. I don't want to leave her with absolutely nothing, so I take a deep breath and sigh while I pen down some words. After folding the note, I place it on the pillow next to her head and take in the sight of her one last time.

"Thank you… for saving me. I had been missing something. I thought I had lost something so essential… so vital and so crucial for living that I had just about given up. Then you showed me that it's something that can never truly be lost. You reminded me that all I need to do is reach out to it. And I reached out to you. I'll never forget you, beautiful stranger…"

I whisper these words to her sleeping features as an unexpected tear rolls down my cheek. These words are contained within my note and I realise that she might not truly understand the significance of it all, but her significant impact on my life will never fade either way.

I wipe away the tear quickly before grabbing my keys and sneaking out the door.

 _All I wanna do is make love to you._

 _One night of love was all we knew._

 _All I wanna do is make love to you._

 _I've got lovin' arms to hold onto._

"Another one?" Tamsin, my begrudging friend and the only fae I can half-stomach at the moment, barges into my apartment with two cups of coffee in hand. She has managed to catch me in my feverish pre-dawn ritual of frantically trying to make old memories come to life via paintbrush and canvas. I am no artist, but I have immersed myself in the hobby over the past year as both a form of distraction and – ironically – a source of provoking grating emotions that insisted on resurfacing time and time again.

"It's been a year, Doc. This is now just bordering on seriously creepy shit." She clicks her tongue disapprovingly as she comes to stand next to me, eyeing my latest creation. I had vowed to myself that it would be the last, and it was rather fitting seeing as how this is my last memory of her. The canvas before us is aflame with warm orange hues, glowing yellow rays, provocative reds and peaceful gold auras, all wrapped around the fluid form of a naked woman, stunning as she sleeps soundly in bed.

"When is your lady love moving in?" She asks with a raised brow as she gives me a pointed stare and I sigh, hard. I should be happy. No, I should be over the moon at the fact that Nadia has finally recovered fully and would be coming home to me after years of floating just outside of my grasp. And yet when Tamsin redirected my attention from the woman on the canvas to my girlfriend, I could feel another crack shoot through my aching heart.

I swallow the uncomfortable hesitation down quickly and pluck the newly finished painting from the easel and then march it over to the desk in the corner of the living room where all the others resided. There were paintings of piercing chocolate eyes, of luscious lips curved in ecstasy, of unbelievably gorgeous curves stretched in naked seduction – all of these belonging to one ebon-haired goddess that I had spent one glorious night with. One glorious night that would be seared into my memories and etched into my heart forever.

She was a dream, however, and with Nadia finally making her return it was time for me to wake up.

"Today." I breathe out finally in response to Tamsin's question and start shoving the paintings into a black plastic bag, steeling myself for their disposal. I linger on the last one, the paint still faintly gleaming from its freshness. I study my goddess one last time, my fingers idly running over her features, smearing the vibrant colours as they travel across the surface. A second later she is gone, lost to the dark abyss of the garbage bag that is the back of my mind.

"Good. Now pull on your coat and throw back this coffee. We have a dead fae in the fridge and a hot suspect in holding." Tamsin shoves one cup into my stained hands and grabs the bag in place of it, then turns and heads for the door. It's not that she truly lacks tact or is indifferent to my emotions, but rather the fact that she's been around long enough to know that an obsession is merely that, and that it can only live as long as one breathes life into it. Tamsin knew that, for the sake of my own sanity, it was time to pull the plug on the life support.

 _Then it happened one day – we came round the same way._

 _You can imagine her surprise when she saw her own eyes._

Some hours later I'm pouring over the dead body on the slab in my lab, taking samples and running tests in order to determine the cause of death. When Nadia's curse had been lifted my ties to the Light should have ended and I should have walked away a free woman once more. I should have taken Nadia and gone far away, back to the bubble we existed in before Africa. Yet that bubble was the problem. How does the insatiably curious human doctor return to ignorance and simplicity after being exposed to such a wondrous world filled with such endlessly fascinating creatures?

So, in all of my justifiable insanity, I stayed.

"Hey Doc! Any luck yet?" I don't even raise my head anymore, by now completely impervious to Tamsin's random interruptions to my daily routine. "The suspect tried to get a little handsy with Dyson, so he's got her cuffed and is dragging her up here so that you can, how did he put it – 'Poke the bitch herself!'"

I couldn't help but smirk, curiously wondering how the two detectives figured I'd be able to do my job when they could barely keep this suspect under control. "Any idea what she is? It would be easier to provide a preliminary assessment on whether she's culpable if I can match her species' feeding habits to the tests I'm busy running on the victim."

I glance up towards Tamsin to find her grinning playfully, though it is very quickly replaced by a look of apprehension as she studies my face closely, seemingly searching for a reaction she appeared to be predicting already. "Well, when I said handsy, I really meant _hands-y_ … She's a succubus."

My heart drops. I know it is her. It is written all over Tamsin's face – she had seen all of the paintings after all. I open my mouth and feel it run dry, whatever I wanted to say vanishing from my thoughts with defiant finality as I stare at my friend. Then, before I am even able to attempt creating a new train of thought, Dyson bursts into my lab with the growling dark-haired fae.

The familiar sound of that growl suddenly causes the images in my mind to jerk to life as the memories flood my consciousness. So when my perturbed gaze settles on her, those images fall into place like puzzle pieces before my very eyes.

I freeze and stare at her – my dream – mouth agape and my blood frozen in my veins. Her reaction is much the same, her chocolate eyes turning darker as her pupils dilate, staring at me in disbelief. "You…" She whispers and I notice the corner of her mouth twitch as if she wants to smile but is incapable of really showing any emotion right now other than shock.

I react impulsively as I shake myself back into my professional persona and turn a hard stare at Dyson to scold him. "You can't just drag suspects into my lab, Detective Thornwood! This is hardly the place to deal with a situation such as this! Did this truly seem like the safest option?" My voice is stern and perhaps just a little heightened with masked emotion as I try my best to avoid the seemingly hurt scowl I was receiving from the woman.

"The Ash wants this handled in private, Dr Lewis. She has not been identified by either side and claims to be unaligned. She poses a threat in revealing our existence and clearly she's dangerous if this death was indeed her doing." Dyson pushes his words with restrained effort through his clenched teeth. We never had a very civil working relationship.

"Then place her in a holding cell until I've prepared the necessary procedures." I bark with my last bit of composure and turn around, unable to face that intense gaze any longer. I am able to discern the sound of a dissatisfied growl from the wolf shifter while Tamsin clicks her fingers in an effort to shoo him and his prisoner from the room. I silently thank her when I hear the door close.

"You okay, Doc?" She asks softly after a few minutes and I absently nod my head before turning back to her while leaning back against my desk, trying to support my suddenly weak knees.

"She didn't do this, Tamsin. At least not with any fae ability she possesses, but then again you all already know this. So why is she really here?" I wrap my arms around myself in an attempt to somehow comfort myself and calm my thundering heart. I can't get the distressed look on her beautiful features out of my head. I felt guilty in more ways than I could handle.

"Can't say, Doc. Need to know basis only, and apparently I don't need to know. Ash and Morrigan each seem to have their own agendas." She tilts her head and watches me with concern flickering through her ghostly eyes, then tentatively steps closer and speaks in as gentle a tone as she could muster. "I hate to do this to you, but the Ash wants a report ASAP. You have to face her, Lauren."

Before I can respond the door to my lab opens again and Dyson reappears, clearly agitated. "She's downstairs in 103, and she's insisting on speaking to you." He has suspicion written all over his face as he watches me intently, clearly not planning on moving from my doorway unless it was with me in tow.

 _I said:_

 _Please, please understand –_

 _I'm in love with another woman,_

 _And what she couldn't give me_

 _Was the one little thing that you can._

A short while later I'm escorted into a type of interrogation room where I find the succubus cuffed to a solid steel table from her seated position in a chair on the opposite side from the door. Once again I watch as her pupils dilate and her lips twitch, but a dark expression quickly clouds her features as she casts her eyes to Dyson beside me. "Alone.." She grinds out venomously.

"You're in no pos…" I quickly cut Dyson's aggravated words short as I lift my hand in a stop-motion before his face and gesture for him to leave. Again distrust shines from his blue eyes, but he relents after a few long seconds and exits the room, closing the door behind him and I know that he won't put a foot further away than that.

I finally let my eyes lock with hers as I clench my jaw and shove my hands deep into the pockets of my lab coat. I don't even know where to start and I'd lie if I said I wasn't waging a war with the feelings coursing through my body at being so close to her, even when there is a table between us.

"So… Dr Lewis, hey?" She finally breaks the silence and my heart skips a beat as that sexy smirk that I remember from her drenched ride in my car makes an appearance. "Is it time for my check-up?" I am both amused and yet amazed at how she still manages to make suggestive jokes at a time like this. "We're not even on a first name basis yet…" She continues and leans casually back into her chair as she eyes me like a worked-up predator.

"Lauren." I respond and hang onto my calm façade for dear life. "And you are?"

"The girl that rocked your world once, all night long? And judging by how… bright you're burning right now, I still do." I find her arrogance strangely arousing and swallow uncomfortably as I contort my face in confusion at the last of her words. She notices and it only seems to delight her further as she chuckles and shakes her head at my expense, and then finally utters calmly, "I'm Bo. Nice to officially meet you, Lauren…"

I casually ignore her comments and pull a testing kit from my coat pocket, simply containing the bare essentials, such as swabs, plastics, needles and tubes, as well as gloves. "I need to take some samples, if you don't mind." I keep my tone professional and calm as I slowly move around the table to her side. I place the kit on the table and go about pulling on the latex gloves, trying my best to ignore how far her face had fallen.

"You don't seriously believe I did this, do you?" It is clear that she feels hurt by my nonchalance.

"I don't make guesses, Bo. I'm a scientist. And I have a job to do." I remove a swab from the kit and turn to face her, waiting for her to allow me to gather a sample from the inside of her mouth.

She pulls back from me and her frown deepens. "Lauren, you _know_ …"

"No I don't, Bo!" I quickly cut her off before she can finish her sentence, plainly annoyed at the fact that I am forced to do this to a woman that is a complete stranger to me, and yet manages to exercise such an undeniable effect on my emotions. It physically hurts to be doing this. "I don't know anything about you and that's a problem right now."

If she seemed predatory before, the expression on her face now makes her seem purely animalistic. I can see her jaw clench tightly, and when she speaks it is through gritted teeth. "If you need a sample of my spit that badly, you can swab your fucking self." Her gaze darts down to my crotch and I quickly catch on. God knows she's feisty, and the fire in her eyes makes my stomach flip.

I can't deal with this right now.

I drop the swab back into the kit and shove it into my pocket once more, before yanking the gloves from my hands in a clear show of irritation. I give her one last mournful look before I turn and quickly head for the door.

"Lauren wait…" I pause reluctantly and glance back at her to observe that look of distress that feels like a bullet to my chest. "Just… Look, I'll give you what you want. Please, can we just talk first? I mean, Jesus, I didn't think I'd ever see you again!"

I sigh. What was there to talk about? I've been yearning for her for the past year, and on the day that I finally decide to let her go, she just randomly shows up in my lab. I was drowning in the emotions that I had spent twelve months trying to dry out. It made me angry. I was finally sober and she was shoving a drink beneath my nose.

"Bo…" I slowly walk over to the chair this side of the table and slump into it, trying to gather my thoughts. "You were not supposed to see me again. I meant every word in that note, but you were not supposed to enter into my life." I shake my head, frustrated that my words feel so inadequate. How do I explain to her that she was shattering the beautiful illusion I had carefully crafted in her image by being here and stomping all over it?

"Why not? What's so terrible about being here? What's so terrible about having another shot?" Her emotions are seeping from her pores and lacing her voice in a painful pitch.

"Another shot at what, Bo? You're a succubus!" My voice squeaks and breaks slightly to match hers.

"That grew up thinking she was human! My feelings are just as fucking real as yours, and you can't sit there and lie to me, telling me that that night was all about sex and nothing more!" Her eyes are swimming in tears now, though they stubbornly refuse to fall down her cheeks. It is kind of beautiful in a completely heart-breaking way.

She is right, I think as I look down at my hands, rubbing my paint-stained fingertips together. And I was stained by her in the most marvellous way, despite belonging to someone else.

"You're right, it wasn't just sex. It was me cheating on the woman I'm in love with. I'm not who you seem to think I am, Bo, and I'm sorry for that. This can never be." I finally look up to see that her tears have now spilled over and wet the collar of her leather jacket. God, she is even more beautiful while being so utterly vulnerable and it takes every ounce of strength in me to not crawl over the table and kiss her sorrow away.

I have made up my mind, however. I had to let her go. I had to let her be that perfect dream that lingers hazily in the back of one's mind.

"I'll send an assistant to come take your samples." With those final words, broken with despair, I bolt out the door and don't look back.

 _All I wanna do is make love to you._

 _One night of love was all we knew._

 _All I wanna do is make love to you._

 _Say you will, you want me to._


End file.
